Causality
by Egg Bubble
Summary: The year is 2020. America, in the final stages of a disastrous presidency. Consumerism has shifted, many companies out of business. Mexico has been sectioned, and Black lives still don't matter. A young girl who's spent her life flying under the radar will find herself thrust into the heart of it when a mysterious stranger saves her from her first alien invasion.
1. Do You Want To Live?

**A/N: Hello world! This is uncharted territory for me. I've been writing for a while, but have never delved into fanfiction before. Please be kind! But really I appreciate any feedback, both positive and constructive criticism. There are quite a few places these characters will travel, but I'm hoping they'll consider this home. Enjoy Chapter 1!**

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"The American Civil War started with the Battle of Fort Sumter in 1861. Seven southern states—"

Stifling a groan I let my head fall onto my folded arms, wishing I was anywhere but n Ms. Burnett's boring history class. Ms. Olivia Burnett – despite teaching such an old subject – was actually pretty young. She had thwarted all attempts to trick her real age out of her, giving the same clue every time anyone tried. She'd graduated from Wellesley College sometime in the beginning years of the Obama administration. That meant little to me since I would have barely been five at the time. Now, twelve years later, in the final months of Trump's presidency, my only hope was that the next leader of the free world would dismantle the neo-nationalistic bent of our government and the twelve-foot-high wall he'd managed to have built all around Mexico. Mom said he'd had trouble getting it funded at the start, but with a promise he could participate in the next U.S. election as a presidential candidate, Putin was all too happy to foot the bill.

I looked out the window. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees and I shivered. The sun was high in the sky but burning at only half its original potential. Between global warming and our quest to conquer the stars, the earth's atmosphere wasn't the only one we'd been successful at destroying. And having yet to find another planet to inhabit once this one inevitably failed…But that wouldn't happen for at least another hundred years or so – barring any major catastrophes – and I'd be long gone by then.

I jumped as the final bell clamored overhead, knocking my notebook to the floor. Before I could swoop down to retrieve it, a stampede of converse and crocs surged towards the door. As the only two shoe brands still in production, gone were the days of individuality – at least where our footwear was concerned. The upside being that in a punch you could boil down your crocs and eat them without dying. Sometimes. I picked up my notebook, smoothing down the edges. I wiped off the loose dirt and shoved it into my backpack.

I hated hallways. Actually, I hated any place that involved large groups of people I didn't want to be around. But the hallways of Gates Preparatory High School were among the worst. You know how movies about teenagers always include those stereotypes? The jocks are loud, obnoxious bro-types, cheerleaders are blonde and perky and bitchy, and then you have the emo kids and the nerds? And other kids from other countries make fun of us because at the end of the day we're all just a bunch of organs in a cage of bones covered in skin? Well, GPHS takes it to the extreme.

I pushed through the mass of bodies in the direction of the exit. I kept my head down, avoiding making eye contact with any of them. I could feel their gazes like daggers in my back and I pressed harder. Blood rushed in my ears, drowning out the sound of their incessant chatter. Up ahead, the neon green of the exit sign blazoned like a beacon of hope.

I stumbled through the front entrance nearly losing my balance on the steps. My heavy feet thudded against the gravel as I pounded across the courtyard. I winced as my thighs began to chafe under my regulation length skirt, cursing the "no undershorts" rule for girls. When I wasn't wearing my school uniform, _if_ I decided to wear a skirt, I always put shorts underneath. My thighs were strong but they took up space, and there's nothing worse than the slow burn of abraded skin. But – for some depraved reason no one could understand – our school had banned the use of fitted shorts as protective garments. And they'd been known to randomly check for compliance.

I burst through the gates and skittered to a stop across the street, narrowly escaping my calling as a human pancake when a taxi careened by. I took a steady, soul-sucking breath as I fought to get my heart rate under control. It raced as much from the unprecedented exercise as from the flirt with danger that was my daily life.

Being Black in America had gone from bad to worse. In fact, being a person of any non-white color was a dangerous situation to be in. Unless you were Asian. White people loved _them_. But everyone else…It was like we had a giant sign on our forehead that said 'other' or 'alien'. And it wasn't like there was anything we could do about it – I mean, we were born the way we were born – had we even wanted to. But as long as you kept your head down and minded your own business, you'd be fine. Mostly. As a senior in high school, it had been three years since I'd had a really close friend. There were very few non-White students at GPHS, and many of my friends had opted for safety over scholastic achievement. They were attending low quality, makeshift schools in the boondocks, but they were safe. Sometimes I wished I had that same inclination towards self-preservation.

I straightened up, normal breathing restored. It was somewhat easier to be about my business once outside the suffocating walls of the school. Even though I couldn't leave my blackness behind, at least in the larger world I could mostly slip through ignored.

Moisture clung to my hand as I swatted at my forehead. My curls began to frizz up and I cursed that even with the lack of humidity I still couldn't hold a hairstyle for more than a few hours. I started in the direction of home, taking my time. I disliked being at home almost as much as I disliked being at school. I mean, home was fine: a single mom who worked hard to put food on the table for me and my baby sis. But I really just disliked being around other people. I guess if someone were to describe me they might call me boring. I was okay with that. Not everyone was or needed to be the risk-taking, adventurous type. I was a creature of habit, partial to my routines, and had no desire for that to change.

I had just rounded the corner when the world split. Crashing waves filled my head, knocking me into the nearest building. I shut my eyes as the world quaked around me, praying it would still. With a piercing whine, the shaking stopped. I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and watched as people began to congregate in the streets. Curious, it wasn't until I approached a group of them that I noticed the cracks spider-webbing the pavement. In the center, a metal canister roughly the size of a thermos had embedded itself in the ground. One brave – stupid? – man tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. All down the street more pockets of people were gathered around identical devices.

The canister hissed. I scrambled backward, putting some distance between it and me. The domed top peeled back, like the petals of a flower. From the opening crawled a creature, unlike anything I'd ever seen. It looked like a spider, it even moved like a spider, but it was completely made of metal. It was small, barely the size of a golf ball, but it seemed able to track shifts in people's movements despite not having eyes. The man reached out and the little creature hopped into his outstretched palm. My head whipped side to side as it crawled up his arm. I stepped back, searching for anyone else who appeared as skeptical as I was, but most seemed hesitantly curious more than anything else.

The man laughed as the creature tickled two wiry antennae below his ear. Encouraged, the metalloid spider circled around towards his back. Pointed silver glinted in the sunlight as a long retractable cone protruded from what I assumed was its backside. A laugh bubbled up as I imagined the creature wielding one of those light up, retractable toy lightsabers. I stifled it with the back of my hand.

A wet crunch, like fallen leaves after an autumn rain, filled the space as the stinger sunk deep into the base of his skull. The man screamed as its appendages flattened across his neck, taking root. A cacophony of terror echoed all down the block as more tiny creatures launched from the canisters. Once willing friends were turned hapless victim and I wasn't there for it. I needed to get away.

A warm, unfamiliar hand slipped into mine. A gentle caress of breath against my ear.

"Run."

I didn't hesitate; instead letting myself be pulled through the streets by a stranger who I had just noticed was a boy. At least I hoped he was a boy and not some crazy man dragging me through the streets of the city. He was half a foot taller than me, and I tripped as I fought to keep up with his grueling place. Pinpricks needled my side and I ground to a halt, doubled over, chest heaving. Never before had I wanted so badly to be a good thirty pounds lighter.

"Do you want to live?" he said, jamming thin, tapered fingers through a mess of chestnut waves. And he was _definitely_ a boy. Complete with full lips, electric green eyes, and a distractingly cute accent I couldn't place.

"What?" I said, brilliantly.

"DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?"

"Yes—"

And we were off again. It was like being on a rollercoaster ride after the first baby loop. You think everything's okay, that you survived the worst of it, only to see a monster loop looming in the distance. My lungs screamed and my legs felt like they had cinderblocks attached. I wanted nothing more than to collapse in an asphyxiated heap on the ground, but in the corners of my eyes I could see people all around me thrashing, fallen prey to those metal things, and I was determined not to be one.

 _Clickity clackity clickity clackity_.

On the ground, mere feet away was a metal spider. It matched our pace easily like it was in no hurry to catch us because it knew we would give up eventually.

"When I say 'now' turn left, ninety degrees!" said the stranger, annoyingly not-winded. He pointed at the spider like he expected a lightning bolt to shoot from his finger and blast the thing apart.

"What?" I said. Again. Wishing I'd put myself in the hands of someone more reliable. Like, anyone who didn't believe in fairytales.

I glanced back just as the creature bunched its back legs and launched –

" _NOW!_ "

I screamed as it crashed into the wall a grateful inch from my head. We veered down a narrow side street as it shook itself and gave chase. It wasn't until we were halfway down the street that I noticed it was a dead end.

"Now what?" I cried, seized with panic.

"Through there," he said, pointing to a door I could've sworn hadn't been there a moment ago.

I shook my head. "It's too—!"

His eyes locked onto mine and he smiled, like an unexpected ray of sunshine on an overcast day.

"Trust me."

He burst through the door and I followed. Two steps in and I could feel the synapses in my brain firing but nothing would compute. My eyes searched blindly, overloaded with foreign colors and shapes. Sounds unknown to the human ear pounded against my temples. My heart raced and I fought to fill my lungs. I stumbled back outside to try and make sense of my surroundings, long enough for the spider to lock onto me again. Strong hands pulled me back just in time, metal hitting wood as the door slammed shut. I collapsed to the floor on numb, shaky legs and tried to keep what little I'd eaten that day from coming back around to say hi.

"Are you okay?" he said, a soft hand on my shoulder.

My surroundings moved to and fro. I couldn't tell if I was shaking my head or if the world was spinning.

"It's bigger on the inside."


	2. Not The Milky Way

**A/N: Hello world! Welcome to chapter 2. New here, would love to hear any and all thoughts. Also, there are a couple of mentions of 'crazy' in this chapter. Mental health is important and I take it seriously, so nothing offensive is meant by it. It's just creative license in the story. Thanks!**

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Sometime between my brain exploding and now I must've passed out because I had no recollection of closing my eyes and my kidnapper – savior? – was nowhere to be found. I sat up, blinking as my eyes adjusted to unfamiliar surroundings. The only thing I was really concerned about was the door, and I was happy to find it right where I'd left it. I stood uneasily, testing my balance. Things were a little off-kilter, but I could manage. I reached for the knob.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Like sitting too close to an unstable fire, I reared back, suddenly unsure. I stepped further into the – well I didn't quite know what to call it – searching for the boy. I found him in a state of frantic motion, turning circles around a thick column in the middle of the room. The column was made of clear glass, inside which a round thingamabob was pumping up and down. It reminded me of weights on a wright machine. At the base of the column, a switchboard wrapped all the way around. It was full of flashing lights, twisty knobs and levers. And though it looked like the world's most insane game of Bop It! ever, he moved around it with a purpose. With a buzz, a static-y screen came to life. He whooped excitedly.

"Why not?" I said, keeping my distance.

"What?" he said, distractedly.

"Why wouldn't you do it?"

"Do what?" he said, paying me no attention.

"Open the door," I said, irritation setting in. If he was going to take the time to save my life, the least he could do was _look at me_ when I asked him a question!

"Because we're in space."

He said it like it was the most obvious thing and I was stupid for asking. Meanwhile, I could feel my grip on reality slipping again, and that's when it came. It started as a giggle, like when your friend pulls out the inside joke the two of you share. Then it turned into full out, side splitting laughter, like when the humor catches you off-guard. Right before it morphed into hysteria. It took effort, but I put a lid on it, taking deep, calming breaths. I was clearly dealing with a crazy person, so I needed to start with something neutral. Something safe.

"How long was I out?"

"Out where?"

" _Out_." I almost yelled. "Unconscious?"

Finally, he looked at me. Squinted, really, like he couldn't quite remember how I'd gotten there. He studied me a moment, his green eyes liquid electric. I couldn't explain it, but somehow I felt he could see everything with those eyes. My biggest fears and mistakes I hadn't even made yet. The birth of the very first star and the destruction of humanity. The first sky before it turned blue and the in-betweens of our universe. He snapped his fingers.

"Thirty billion, one-hundred and fifty-two million, five-hundred and eighty-three thousand, and forty-six nanoseconds."

"What?" I shuddered.

 _Dangerous_.

He rolled his eyes. "Thirty Seconds."

Thirty seconds. I'd never passed out before, but sure that was well within the normal range of—

An invisible hand yanked me off my feet, sending me crashing into a nearby railing. My teeth rattled in my head as the room vibrated around me. From nowhere and everywhere sound wheezed like a tired siren. Impact hit, knocking me flat on my stomach. I echoed the room as I scrambled to refill my lungs. I curled in on myself, hands covering my ears.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Crash landing1" he yelled above the noise, his eyes alight. Was it my imagination or did he actually sound excited?

"Landing?" I asked, my brain finally catching up to the word. "Where are we?"

"TARDIS."

"Tar? Dis?" I frowned. "Is that like a crack at me because I'm Black?"

The boy flipped as witch while the air screamed. With a jolt, we came to a complete stop, sending me skidding across the floor. I lay there a moment, waiting for the motion to resume. When it didn't, I climbed to my feet, checking all of me was still in one piece.

" _TARDIS_."

I looked up to find the boy glaring down at me from the raised platform under the switchboard. I shrunk under his gaze, fighting the urge to look around me for a place to hide. I didn't know the guy from Adam but I could tell he was angry. Something basic, instinctual, told me I definitely didn't want him angry.

"TARDIS." He repeated, pointing to the door. Just above the entrance, a series of words shimmered in and out of focus.

"Time and relative dimension in space." I read.

Ah. So that's where he got space from.

"Oh, right." I said, nodding as if the words actually meant something to me. Better to keep the crazy happy. "Of course."

He turned on his heel to consult the monitor. I inched closer, getting my first good look at him. His hair was short. Gentle waves fell just short of the tips of his ears while a single lock stood up from the crown of his head. I smiled, reminded of my favorite little rascal. He was athletic, lean and strong like a runner. Or as far as I could tell under his many layers. He wore a black, faded denim jacket over a black zip up hoodie. Underneath, a dark green peeked through, complimenting his eyes in a way I refused to think about because this was not 1974, I was not Patty Hearst, and _I would not be attracted to dangerous boys who think they're in space and live in boxes that are bigger on the inside and smaller on the—_

I shook my head, muttering, "Safe topic, safe topic, safe to—"

I continued my clinical and extremely impersonal assessment of his black skinny jeans – one knee gone, complete with a black belt, wallet chain and—

" _OH MY GOD ARE THOSE JORDANS!?"_ I exclaimed, scaling the steps to get a closer look.

"Nike, Air Jordan I, Notorious. Vintage 1984." He said, smugly. "Only pair still in existence."

I admired the high-tops, doing my best to keep from drooling. Not even because they were Jordan's, but just because they weren't Converse or Crocs. They were high-tops, all clean lines and pristine white with splashes of black and gray. I rocked back on my heels, sighing.

"They're beautiful. They must be worth at least half a mil by now."

"One point four nine three six eight two million and five seven, to be exact."

He jumped down the stairs, landing neatly at the bottom and headed for the door. With nothing else to do I followed in a much more reasonable fashion. The last thing I needed was to fall flat on my face in front of someone who already wasn't particularly impressed with me. Not to mention he didn't need to see all of me flying through the air. I had horrible balance at best, and was clumsy and uncoordinated at my worst. No thanks. My rolls were just fine walking carefully down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Out."

"Oh. Well where am I going?"

"Home."

"Home?" I squeaked, halting. "But those things! They're everywhere."

"Not my problem."

"But you saved me." I pleaded, disgusted with the whine in my voice.

"You were in the right place at the right time," he said, shrugging. "Now you're just in the way."

"Well excuse me for taking up your precious air space," I said, silently folding in on myself. "it's not like you brought me here or anything."

"Don't apologize. Get out."

"I was just leaving."

I squared my shoulders, determined not to let him see how his words cut. What did I care that some stupid boy didn't want me in his stupid TARDIS? Or that when he saved me was the first time in my life a boy had ever held my hand? With a determined nod I twisted the knob and stepped outside—

And immediately stepped back in, shutting the door firmly behind me.

"What now?" he said.

"W-w-w-," I babbled.

"Shut up." He said, holding up a hand. I bit down on my tongue to stop the word vomit. I closed my eyes, concentrating on quieting my racing mind. It couldn't be true, right? I mean there's no way I could have been running down a street and then down an alley and into a wooden box that rattled us around like a pack of matches and made weird wheezing noises and had all those buttons and handles that switched and now all of a sudden—

"Speak."

"It moved." I whispered. "The whole world, it moved. The alley, the people, the—"

"Shut up," he said, again.

"The world didn't move, we did. I told you—," He pointed above the door. "time and relative dimension _in space_. This is my spaceship."

"Your _space_ ship," I confirmed, weakly.

"Yes."

"That flies in space?"

"And time."

"Time…" I nodded like it was the most normal thing. "So then you're not a strange, delusional boy who believes in magic?"

"Magic isn't real," he scoffed.

Really? The existence of magic was farfetched, but not tiny spaceships and metal spiders crash landing to earth?

"Are you human?"

"No."

"A-Alien?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

My lungs constricted and my temperature spiked. A familiar whooshing filled my ears and I squeezed my eyes shut—

My brain rattled around as strong hands shook me awake. I sat up, taking deep breaths and cradling my head. This was an all-time record for me. As if echoing my thoughts—

"Is this a habit of yours?" he said, disgusted.

"What can I say? You bring out the best in me," I shot back, climbing to my feet. "So. Where are you from? A planet? A star? The milky way?"

"The milky?" he said, incredulously. "As if I'd ever be associated with the likes of those pampered, pretty-boy—"

"Okay, _not_ the milky way." I said, waving ahead. "So where then?"

Something in him shifted. Like when businesses shut down at the end of a long day, it was as if a door that might have been ajar was now firmly shut. He suddenly felt miles away and there was a savagery to him that was violently beautiful. And yet there was something of tragedy hidden in the corners of his mouth, settled in the creases of his eyes.

 _Dangerous_.

And with a snap it was gone.

"Time for an adventure!" he said, tapping me on the nose. I frowned.

"I thought I was in the way."

"I've changed my mind. I'm allowed to do that," he boasted. He grabbed my hand, pulling me back towards the door.

"But—but I don't even know your name!"

"I'm The Doctor."

"The Doctor? Doctor who?" I asked, confused.

He turned to me, eyes shining. He smiled conspiratorially, like he was letting me in on the best kept secret.

"Exactly!"


End file.
